Never Forgotten
by writeonkate
Summary: Hestia Jones remembers her friends, who will never be forgotten. OneShot, rated K mostly because I was sobbing throughout the entire thing. Marauders. DH Spoilers, I guess, too.


DISCLAIMER: I'm not british, I'm not a brilliant author, therefore I'm not JK Rowling. These characters are HER'S!!

a/n: I just had to get this out. Simple one shot, and I sobbed all the way through. I have the tissues to prove it. So if it's a bit sketchy in spots, that's why. Also, this is based on Hestia Jones being in school with the Marauders, Lily, and one Emmeline Vance. Canon otherwise- and yes, Hes is quite alive, since JK Rowling didn't say she's dead. Though after the Dursleys, one wonders... review if you like, because I do appreciate them.

oOo

The final battle was already underway when Hestia Jones received the summons from the Order in the form of a silvery patronus infiltrating the safe house where she had been living in the unpleasant company of Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley for the past three weeks, ever since Dedalus had ended his shift and been called away on an alternative assignment. All it had said was to come immediately, for the final battle was at hand and they needed all reinforcements. It had come as a welcome relief, truth be told- the Dursleys were even more bothersome, whiney, and cynic than even Lily had ever made them out to be. It was only for her old friend's sake that Hestia managed to put up with them.

Vernon was almost constantly complaining loudly about the lack of news (for how was he to tell if Grunnings was doing alright in his absence if he couldn't see a bloody newspaper?). It had taken two weeks of her patiently explaining that to have a muggle newspaper brought in would alert You-Know-Who of their presence within to convince him of the impossibility of his request, and even now he still protested most strongly. Petunia was hardly better, compulsively cleaning almost everything in sight, especially after Hestia had touched it. She knew from Lily's vivid descriptions of her sister's dislike for the wizarding world and all who were part of it that it would be futile to point out that Hestia had grown up in a stable muggle household all her life. Even now it shocked her that this woman was related to a dear girl like Lily. At least the boy was slightly better, though he kept asking Hestia bothersome questions about his cousin. The first few times she had replied waspishly, asking him if he really cared why he hadn't spoken to his cousin before he had left. But eventually, Hestia had warmed up to him- maybe because he was the only one in the house aside from Dedalus who'd treat her with an ounce of respect.

Yet now, she had abandoned them. She figured that the fidelius charm, to which Kingsley had graciously agreed to be secret keeper, would keep them safe. Besides, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named (she couldn't bear even now to call him Voldemort) would be too busy with the battle at hand to go looking for the Dursleys. She had grabbed her cloak, ignored Vernon's yelling about how she was supposed to protect them, and promptly left the house and disapparated. She had fulfilled her duty to her friend- she had put up and protected Lily's sister as best she could. Now it was time to see what she could do to aid Lily's son.

She arrived in Hogsmeade and immediately began to run up the familiar trail towards Hogwarts castle. Even from this distance, Hestia could see the glow of spell hitting spell. The battle was in full swing. She took enough time to pause and take out her wand. Even though living with the Dursleys had gotten her used to the muggle way of life once more, she hadn't been fool enough to abandon her magic. She had spent hours at a time practicing on a dummy. While it may've looked stupid to her housemates, she was now more than happy she had done so. She continued her sprint upwards and soon found herself at the gates of Hogwarts. Steeling herself for what lay ahead, she entered the final battle. Whatever may happen, she was bound and determined that this would be the last battle if there was anything she could do about it. She was sick of seeing her friends die. No more.

Hestia Jones, mudblood witch, threw herself into the fray, launching spell after spell at Death Eaters. She was no longer fighting for herself- she was fighting for everything and everyone she had lost to these people. After an indeterminable amount of time, she found herself standing next to Remus Lupin, her old schoolmate. "Alright, Rem?" she managed to shout between jinxes.

"Manageable! You?" he called back, a fierce look in his eyes.

"Same!" she replied. With a flourish of her wand she had managed to disable another Death Eater, earning herself a few seconds respite. She watched as Remus similarly stunned his opponent, and threw him a brave smile. "For the Order!" she said.

"For the Order. For all of them," Remus responded grimly. A bloodcurdling scream drew their attention away from each other, and a shot of red light came dangerously close to Hestia's wand arm. With a final look at her old friend, the last of them now, she turned towards the Death Eater and fought back with vigor. By the time she had stunned her opponent, Remus was gone, further away dueling a pair of large and lethal looking Death Eaters. It was the last time Hestia saw him alive.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the battle had stopped. The eerie hiss of the Dark Lord filled the night sky. Dispose of the dead. Treat the wounded. Oh, God, please, don't let there be many of the first, Hestia prayed as she made her way towards the Great Hall, where she had heard the wounded were being brought. As a healer, she knew her spot was there. She put on a grim face, rolled up her sleeves, and brandished her wand. If there was anything she could do to lessen the damage, she would, she promised herself.

An hour later, she found herself at a loss for what to do. Between her and about five other various healers who she had recognized, the wounded were as stable as they could be without potions. Nobody had volunteered to brave the world outside the hall to retrieve them from the Hospital Wing. It hadn't been necessary. They had done all they could- it was up to the individuals now whether they accepted the warm dark blanket of death. While she had been flitting from one person to another, Hestia had kept her eyes open for any sign of people she knew. She had treated a young man who bore a striking resemblance to Alice Miller, now Alice Longbottom. An inquiry had revealed him to be none other than her and Frank's only son. Hestia had gazed at him for a long moment before quickly healing a long gash with a practiced flick of her wand. Her generation were now the seniors- this younger generation, her classmates' children, now fought alongside. If nothing else had, this sudden painful realization had brought the fact that this war had gone on, in one sense or another, for 23 years.

But the face she really was seeking, that of Remus, was not to be found amongst the injured. This thought comforted her slightly- could it be that he had escaped the wrath of the war? She held on tightly to this hope, and did for some time, until she was forced to bring the body of a young boy over to the line of dead when she had watched his eyes go blind. The line of bodies was enormous, almost reaching from one end of the hall to the other. So many had died. So many people who would never go home to see their family. Hestia had settled the young boy's body near the end of the line, and turned to leave, when she caught sight of a familiar face, which caused her to pause. Slowly she turned back around and took a step closer for a more detailed look of the face, and felt her heart stop momentarily. In the line of dead lay Remus Lupin. Her fellow Gryffindor lay peacefully, as though asleep, next to his young wife. A sob stuck in her throat, and she felt tears sting her eyes. She was now all alone in this world. The last of her old friends had left her now- left her to join the rest of them.

The rest of the night passed in a daze for Hestia. She fought automatically, then watched as Harry, little Harry who she had babysat for countless times in his first year of life, defeated the most evil wizard of their time. It all was yet surreal to her. Voldemort was gone, and with him her friends. A loud cheer went up as the body of the Dark Lord crumpled down and Harry stumbled back, amazed at what he had just accomplished. But Hestia could not join in. Instead, she quietly slipped from the hall. This was no longer her place, she thought. So she started her way up the first place she thought of- the Gryffindor common room.

Carefully she picked her way through the rubble of fallen walls, broken windows, and broken statues. She passed through the halls like a ghost, silently taking in the familiar halls. Had it really been so long ago that she had walked these halls on the way to a class? It certainly didn't feel like it. She climbed the familiar changing steps, carefully stepping over trick steps and nodding to the pictures that called greetings but ignored their pleas for news. They'd find out soon enough. In almost no time she was in front of a familiar portrait of the Fat Lady, who had been viciously removed from the wall, leaving the way open for Hestia. Sending up a silent prayer of thanks, Hestia stepped inside and felt the breath leave her all in a rush.

Even after 20 years, nothing had changed. Sweets were scattered all over a table, where some first year had undoubtedly forgotten them. And a scroll, half unrolled, still lay in it's spot in the middle of a table, a discarded quill beside it. The familiar sofa and armchairs still were gathered round the fire like old familiar friends. Hestia felt herself inexplicably drawn to her customary seat towards the end, where she could recall spending many happy hours with her friends. With a shaky breath she sat, and took in the empty chairs around her. The time had come to remember and pay homage to her friends.

Hestia's eyes first settled on the seat furthest from her. Sirius. Sirius Black, Hogwarts heartbreaker, the scourge of the teaching staff of Hogwarts. She could see, clear as day, seventeen year old Sirius, his hair falling into his eyes as his eyes glittered with plans for the next big prank, undoubtedly waiting for the time he and his friends were alone so he could share his next big idea. He grinned widely then laughed at a joke told by James. Sirius was the quintessential black sheep of the Black family. A decent soul, he had been fiercely loyal to his friend, his brother, James, to the end. He had died as he had lived, recklessly and for those he loved. Two years gone, Hestia could still recall that day at Grimmauld place when word had reached them that Sirius had fallen. She had thought then as she did now, that maybe it was better that way. He had never been the same after Azkaban, after being accused of causing the deaths of two of his dearest friends. And now, he had finally rejoined his dearest friend in the afterlife, where undoubtedly the two of them were pulling pranks and reeking havoc.

The next chair was Peter Pettigrew's. A mousy looking boy with watery eyes and a piggy expression, he had always been the odd one out of the group. He hadn't ever been a particularly outgoing boy, and had piggybacked on his friends' accomplishments. Peter had always been worried or trying too hard to contribute something to the group. Hestia could clearly see the boy trying hard to embellish something that Sirius had said, or agreeing emphatically with James. The other boys had always sheltered him like a little brother who was slightly soft in the head, and shared with him their renown and, the most valuable gift, their friendship and undying loyalty. Yet Peter, always eager to be on the most powerful side, had fallen to the glamour of Voldemort's perfect world. He had taken the Dark Mark the year after they graduated without any of their knowledge. Then, he had done the unforgiveable- he had betrayed his friends. It must've been his greatest moment, that day he could go to the Dark Lord himself and hand him what he most wanted- the Potters and little Harry. He handed over James, who had treated him like a brother, and Lily, who had always been kind to him without so much as a hesitation. Then he had taken Sirius down with him. Word had come some weeks ago that Pettigrew was dead, supposedly in defense or repayment of Harry, but Peter had been dead to Hestia ever since he faked his own death 17 years ago, condemned since she had heard the story of his betrayal from Sirius. Of all these memories, he was the one who least deserved laud, but he was, undeserving though he was, a Marauder. While Hestia always tried to think the best of people, she did not hold out much hope that Peter had redeemed himself. If he had, it had only been out of fear, not out of pride. Chances are the boy didn't know what that meant, and had never learned.

The next chair was that of James Potter, in the center of everything. Hestia still had trouble believing that he had been gone now 17 years, for she could see him as he had been in those times, black hair tousled and unruly, glasses pushed up his nose, and leaning over towards Lily trying to get her to talk to him. She gave a sad smile. James had been a noble person, relentless and loyal for all of his closest friends. In school Hestia hadn't known him as well as she wished. For most of the years, James had been Lily's proverbial thorn in her side. Even now Hestia could clearly see that day that the two of them had admitted their love for each other, and it brought a smile to her face. It had been the pinnacle of seventh year, Lily and James finally agreeing to give into their mutual feelings. James had proposed to Lily at the end of that year, and married her quietly the following fall amidst going through auror training. Even now Hestia could remember Lily's disappointment about that- she had wanted a big wedding, but in the middle of the war, she had to make do with a small one if she wanted to get married at all. When Lily had gotten pregnant with Harry, James had been every ounce the loving and attentive father he could've been. Memories flashed through Hestia's mind of James playing with Harry on the floor while she and Lily had chatted well into the evening. His death had been a tragedy, the first of their number to leave this earth. Everyone said he had died in defense of Lily and Harry, and knowing James, she believed it. Anything less wasn't James.

Lily had always sat next to James, in a serendipitous sort of manner. Beautiful, vibrant, Lily Evans had been one of Hestia's first friends at Hogwarts. A muggleborn like herself, Hestia had found a kindred spirit in the fiery redhead. Lily had always played hard to get with James, going from loathing to devout love in the span of seven years. She had also been so amazingly intelligent- she had always given Hestia a run for her money, and had frequently beat her in charms and potions, at which she had been admittedly brilliant. Lily had been an amazing person, and her death had been and always would be a travesty. She had died saving her son, an insight into the Gryffindor loyalty and courage that she had shown so many times. That last year of her life would not have been happy, Hestia knew, without her son. Lily had adored the boy more than anyone except perhaps James. Hestia and Lily had spent many hours together in the Potter's cozy parlor watching Harry and talking about life and the war. Hestia could still hear her friend's laughter within these stone walls, and tears glistened in her eyes. Seventeen years gone, maybe, but just as vibrant as always. "You must be proud of your son," Hestia said, speaking aloud for the first time. "He's every inch you and James' boy." She could almost see her friend nod and give her love's hand a squeeze, and with a final smile Hestia moved her eyes to the next chair.

Next in line was Remus Lupin. Perhaps the most reluctant of the marauders, he was also the one who Hestia had known the best and to whom she had been closest. Reserved and intelligent, Remus was almost the exact opposite of James and Sirius, for he had actually used his head before acting. Yet despite his prefects badge, he had allowed his friends to coax out the inner prankster and child in him. He never looked happier than when he was with his friends, laughing together or plotting, Remus generally providing an uncommon spell or charm he had come across when studying. When Hestia had found out he was a werewolf their seventh year, she had been shocked. He was, in her eyes, the least deserving person of this cruel fate, and she could see through the following years how he struggled with that curse. But his friends had made it better for him, eschewing law and what ought to be possible in order to become animagi. Hestia long suspected Remus felt forever indebted to his friends for doing this, and from there had stemmed his unshakable loyalty. She had watched how it nearly killed him to hear that Sirius had betrayed James, that James and Lily were dead, and that Harry was to have no loving family to raise him. He had, she recalled, fought for a time with Dumbledore about the boy's upbringing, begging him to reconsider. Noble Remus, acting in his friend's defense. Though she had seen Remus only hours ago, she now saw a different boy, more carefree than the man she had just seen, relaxing in his chair and laughing quietly at something stupid Sirius had done and every so often eyeing Emmeline beside him. Yes, even now, with Remus marrying Tonks, Hestia knew that he had loved her friend. They had gone out off and on throughout the war, and she had seen how the news of Em's death had torn him apart. Hestia still couldn't quite believe that Remus was gone. He had just had a son, Teddy, whom he adored. Yet he had given his life in order to give his son, to give the world a better life. They all had. With tears in her eyes Hestia smiled over at his chair.

The last place was maybe the hardest for her to come to terms with. Emmeline Vance, that funny, quirky girl who had been her best friend had sat here. She had always been more outgoing than Hestia, and had drawn her out of her shell. Hestia could see vividly Emmeline throwing her blonde head back in unrestrained laughter. Emmeline had always been brave, though Hestia knew that deep inside she had feared loosing her friends and family. Yet it had never stopped her from doing what was right. She had joined the Order almost immediately out of school, not caring about the personal risk, because it was the right thing to do. It was Emmeline with whom Hestia had planned and shared her deepest secrets, who had always been the first to tell news. When Lily and James had died, the two of them had banded together, mourning the loss of their friends. Hestia had always thought it would be Emmeline at the end of this, not her. Emmeline had been strong, vibrant, brave to a fault. She had never shirked what she knew she had to do, and had always been there for her friends. Hestia smiled slightly as she imagined Emmeline now sitting with Lily, Remus, and James, swapping stories and lighting up the entire room, for that's what she had done in life. It had been one of the worst days of Hestia's life when she had found out her friend was dead, murdered by Death Eaters. Had two years really passed? She sighed. Emmeline had faced her death bravely, Hestia knew. She fought to the last, and died knowing she died for the right thing.

Last of all was her, Hestia Jones. Hestia had been probably the most taciturn of the bunch, but had always been there to listen. She had also been the last of them to join the Order, which was something that still haunted her to this day. It had taken James and Lily's deaths to make her realize that this had to be stopped at all costs. She had always enjoied simple things, and valued her friendships. Which is why this was where she needed to be right now.

In the moonlight of that summer day, Hestia looked around her. It was just as it had been- almost. She was the last one of their number now, and she would ensure that her friends' stories did not go untold. Gryffindors all, they had each embodied the house's ideals. Bravery. Loyalty. Compassion. Honesty. Hestia gave a watery smile through her tears. They had died not in vain, but in pursuit of what was right and good, and in order to give the survivors of this cruel war a better world.

And then, it was as if time turned itself back. For before Hestia's eyes, the figures of each of her friends took their places in their seats, looking no different than they had 20 years ago, on the brink of graduation. They all were smiling, laughing, talking- alive and vibrant once more. Hestia no longer was nearing 40, but a blissful 17 again, laughing at Sirius' joke, whispering to Emmeline, congratulating Lily and James on their engagement, and sharing smiles with all her friends. Yes, all was right with the world. She could see the happiness glistening in their eyes along with the tears. They were with her now, she knew. "It's done… he's gone," she said finally with a smile.

"I knew your boy would do it, James!" Sirius said with a grin.

"Yeah… that's my Harry," James said, squeezing his wife's hand.

"Hes, we did it," Emmeline said happily. "Can you believe it? We did it, all of us. We managed to overcome it all."

"Yes, Em… we did, didn't we?" Hestia said, smiling.

Outside Hestia could hear fireworks and music, undoubtedly rejoicing the end of fear in the wizarding world, but made no move to go join. She would celebrate here, among her friends. Hestia knew even as she saw her friend's ghosts cheer and toast, acting as they had in life, that they would never really be gone. They would live on forever in her heart.


End file.
